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Worn Boots, Leaky Waders and Sore Bits

Allan Liddle discovers the looks of disapproval a fisherman gets when going into a shop after wearing a pair of leaky waders...it's water – honest!

Chewed to bits.
Chewed to bits.

Here we are once again, into the early days of another trout fishing season full of optimism, hope and energy for all the great times that are about to come round.

Rising fish, big hatches, great weather, great sport, big fish, great company smiling faces and warm hearts, everything our mind’s eye conjures up when we think of, plan and look forward to our next fishing outing, everything we’ve missed over the long cold winter months of Cabin Fever and isolation. Life will be good, everything in balance and nothing to stop us.

Allan isn't the only one happy to be out again.

Well that is until reality kicks in and after a mere first few outings it’s all coming back to me. First up, my wading boots; left over the winder in the shed to dry out and somehow detach themselves from the felt sole with only the studs I put in last year holding them together. ‘Aquasure’ urgently required but meantime I’ve a spare pair so all is not lost, or so I thought.  My spares are not in the best of condition either and sadly after a mere four outings have decided they don’t want to come out of retirement, opening up along the seam of the left foot and causing an untimely ‘early bath’ whilst trying to get onto a particularly tricky fish last outing.

Success on the DHE.

Then there are the leaky waders. Ok for the first couple of times out until required to reach crotch depth when that familiar cold slow penetrating and heart sinking feeling began once again thanks to a tiny, but still present opening in the seam. Not big enough to stop you fishing, but plenty big enough to cause that uncomfortable feeling the rest of the day coupled to the look of disdain you get when buying a few beers from the local supermarket for the ‘Après Fish’ fishing reflection once you get home. Explaining your waders were leaking somehow seems to make the situation worse as the look goes from disdain to disbelief.

Slurping fish.

Finally there are the sore bits from all the muscles that have taken this moment to remember they exist given the six months of rest and recuperation they’ve just had.  Legs and back all grumbling away from the exertions of trying to walk with a disintegrating pair of boots over broken boulders, rough ground and difficult wading, whilst all the time trying to ignore the cold damp discomfort from your crotch.

Best so far: 2lb 12oz.

Is it worth it all? Absolutely, dogs are in heaven bounding about and having a ball, I’m wandering and scanning for rising fish as well as catching more than a few with everything in the world great at least for a little while with the only thing to concern you is if there’s going to be another hatch and if your dries will match it?

Here we go again for another season of success and failure but all the time with hope and enjoyment, it’s why we put ourselves through all of this after all. Roll on next weekend when I can do it all again, although spare trousers are in the fishing bag already just in case I stop off for more beers on the way home.

March Browns.

Read more from Allan in the May Issue.

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